A Book By Its Cover
by mleeph
Summary: The book, bound inconspicuously in soft reddish leather, appeared quite suddenly upon the small bedside table. It did not, most decidedly did NOT, belong to Watanuki. Doumeki x Watanuki. FINAL CHAPTER UP!
1. Read it, Watanuki

The book, bound inconspicuously in soft reddish leather, appeared quite suddenly upon the small bedside table. It was not dropped there, nor even placed there carefully, but rather settled in, cloaked in its very own layer of dust between the box of pale blue Kleenex and the old alarm clock. It did not—most decidedly did _not_—belong to Watanuki. 

But it was there anyway, and no matter how he tried to hide it or throw it out or lose it somewhere on a busy road, it would not go away. Each time he thought he had rid himself of it he would return to see it lying, unmoved, in exactly the same place.

Watanuki fretted over it. He attempted to place a glass of water in its spot and then throw it furtively into the dumpster around the corner, only to find that it merely balanced itself upon the delicate glass lip. Next he tried wide pan of water, hoping to destroy the demonic thing when it attempted to land once again in its favorite spot. But it easily evaded him, slipping beneath the pan as though in mockery of his efforts. At long last Watanuki dragged the book to a small autumn celebration, in hopes that the bonfire might eat away the treacherous paper, freeing him of it. And watching the flames consume the neat and tidy ruled paper was indeed something of a liberating experience.

That is, until Watanuki opened his satchel to dig out a pencil for Himawari-chan, and found the worn leather cover nestled between two textbooks.

He cursed it, he placed seals upon it, he attempted to exorcise it using knowledge gleaned from Yuuko's infinite supply of magical texts, but still it would not leave him in peace. Since the burning incident it seemed to have taken up permanent residence nearby him, as if determined to punish him for his foolish behavior. In his book bag during the day. Crammed into his locker when he went to PE. Hiding in his stash of cookbooks whenever he approached the stove—especially, he noted, whenever he attempted to cook lunch for Doumeki or himself. _It would figure_, he thought grimly, _that something as bothersome and unfathomable as that piece of junk would be connected with His Supreme Uncommunicativeness._

Watanuki eventually resolved to refrain from paying the thing any attention, in the hopes that it would eventually get tired of tormenting him and go away. Not that that had ever worked on Doumeki, but it was still worth a shot. After all, a magical book (and it certainly had to be magical) must at least obey magical laws, whereas the assiduously annoying archer was not known to obey_ any_ laws natural or supernatural.

-----

"What on earth are you hiding behind your back, Watanuki-kun?" Yuuko asked him, brow furled ever so slightly. Watanuki stared at her dumbly, registering only precarious relief at the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Yuuko couldn't read minds after all. It wasn't like her to ask such a frank and factual question; she specialized more in suggestive tones that bent listeners to her nefarious will.

"You mean... you don't know?" he gasped.

"No, there seems to be a rather powerful cloak upon it, one that even I cannot see through. I was hoping you would enlighten me, Watanuki dear." She looked at him half-amusedly, one eyebrow cocked in anticipation. "Not that I don't have a hunch, of course."

"It's... ah... it's nothing, just a little trinket..."

Yuuko looked smug. "Not a little something with pages and a cover, perhaps?" When Watanuki turned an even deeper shade of red, she continued with the slightest giggle in her voice. "Well, you don't need to worry, then. It's not something dangerous...just a little issue that needs to be dealt with."

Watanuki managed a strangled gurgling sound.

"Yes?" asked Yuuko expectantly.

"Can you... tell me how to get rid of it?" he mumbled. His employer laughed in earnest, tossing her long legs from the dais where she sat and sweeping across the room to meet him on dark bat wings. The star-dotted material of her kimono swept against his face, enfolding him in a world of woven night.

"No, that's one thing I cannot help you with," she told him, spidery fingers running lazily over the bridge of his nose. Watanuki crossed his eyes, then uncrossed them to look her in the face. Dark red eyes stared back at him, contemplating the secrets of the universe with a perverse mixture of amusement and responsibility. Watanuki, thoroughly cowed, went back to crossing his eyes again. "The price would be too great for you to pay," Yuuko continued. "There are things no mortal should ever wish away, do you understand me? You may create your own future to some extent, but there are other pieces, other components, which are _hitsuzen_. They cannot be altered, Watanuki, cannot be bartered off. I have the idea," she whispered, "That the book behind your back is one of those things."

"Yes..." Watanuki murmured, caught in the spell.

"Ooooof course," added Yuuko loudly, suddenly straightening and assuming the plastically cheery demeanor of a particularly talented used car salesperson. "As your employer and dear friend, and for a very reasonable price, I _could_ offer some heart-to-heart advice on the subject. Ne, Watanuki-kun?"

Watanuki rubbed his eyes wearily with the heel of his palm. He would understand Yuuko someday—if she would ever remain the same damn _person_ for more than a minute.

"All right, fine. What should I do?" he asked exasperatedly.

Yuuko pouted.

"Ah-ah, that's not a very nice way to ask, Watanuki-kun. You really ought to show more respect."

"..._Please_ tell me what I should do, Yuuko-san," Watanuki sighed.

"Watanuki-kuuun..."

"Fine! PLEASE, your humble servant begs of you to share your infinite and unimpeachable wisdom with his lowly self, O Great, Powerful, and Mysterious Yuuko-sama! Happy now?"

"Quite," Yuuko said cheerily.

"So where's my advice?"

"Right here," she said, leaning in toward him and speaking in a nearly inaudible voice, so that he had to strain to hear each word. Her voice gave him the impression of gauzy spider webs floating over water on a muggy day, delicate and suffocating all at once.

"The book... _read_ it, Watanuki."

Yuuko leaned back, the spider webs clearing from the air. Watanuki waited.

"And...?"

"And you'll be serving me breakfast for the next two days, so be sure to stock up on sake!"

Several minutes later, a tall youth vaguely resembling a clarinet in his gold buttoned uniform, could be seen with shopping bag in hand, frantically pounding his forehead against a fence that wasn't there at the edge of an abandoned lot. At this point, Watanuki didn't really care if he frightened the neighbors.


	2. My feet would still be cold!

_"well anyways it's not exactly true that Himawari wasn't going to visit some other boy because I saw her chatting on the phone with somebody who was definitely not a girlfriend the other day by the way she was giggling and promising to come over some time but really it can't have been all that important or at least that's what I told myself because it's not a very fun way to spend an afternoon watching your crush dump you for some other guy not that you can really count as being dumped if you were never going out but anyway its not really such a big deal because I'm starting to think that I don't really have a crush on her at all isn't that weird well anyways she's really nice but more of a friend than anything else and after all there's Doumeki now and I know I really shouldn't think that and I don't even want to think that for crying out loud it's Doumeki but you know he's not really such a bastard after all even though I keep on telling him that because I'm used to it even though he never talks and when he does half the time it's annoying but the other half it really seems like he cares I kind of like him sometimes and he's always there to help me out with whatever crazy assignment Yuuko sends us on oh gosh Yuuko annoys me sometimes well anyways hey I've never noticed but I kind of think the phrase well anyways a lot isn't that strange and I've heard people are the only animals that think in words not pictures well duh because we're the only ones who speak"_

Watanuki slammed the incomprehensible mess closed and stared out the window morosely. He should certainly hope that whomever that gobbledygook belonged was committed to an insane asylum. He or she was obviously unstable and should not be allowed in polite society.

The only issue was that, by all logical reasoning, said gobbledygook actually belonged to one Watanuki Kimihiro. Perhaps, he reflected, that didn't change his former conclusion. Provided that the text of the mysterious book was indeed his thoughts in some form—some very _altered_ form, he added vehemently—then he seriously needed to re-examine his conception of himself.

For one thing, what sane person thought that way about Doumeki the Bastard?

Watanuki flipped the book open again, the dull gray light of a cloudy day illuminating the text. He supposed it might start to snow soon. In the mean time, the melancholy atmosphere was enhanced by his sour recollections of the passages he had just studied.

_"well why else would I make him bentou it's not as if he appreciates it only I do wonder why that is no wait I know god I'm dumb sometimes you'd think Yuuko had taught me nothing"_

_"there's something about that expression that I'm getting better at reading since when did that happen it sure wasn't while I was watching but now I can read him I wonder if he can read me too maybe it was the eye thing I kind of like it"_

_"he asked me if I still wanted the chocolate cake when I complained and maybe I should have taken him up on the offer it might have tasted good and warm too I was kind of chilly yum"_

_"this morning I woke up with a picture of Doumeki's face in my mind as though I had dreamed it but I couldn't remember the dream only a lot of snow and a warm fire and a couch it seems like the couch was important it was blue"_

And then there were others, more non sequiter and disturbing:

I saw him talking to that girl from homeroom today and didn't like it 

_"Doumeki's new shirt is dark red and looks good on him very good with his dark hair wow"  
_

_"I hope he wins at archery on Thursday"_

_"wonder what he would think if I told him _that_ no I won't"_

No, definitely not sane. Watanuki glared at the book. Definitely not _him_. Whatever Yuuko said, there was no reason to subject himself to this kind of torture and certainly no reason to believe it. She herself said she couldn't read this piece of junk, so where was the guarantee that she was right about it at all? Maybe all that power and mysticism was finally going to her head. (Or maybe not "finally".)

Just for the hell of it, Watanuki pried the window open and shoved the book off the sill and into the icy air. It splashed into a muddy patch of dirt two floors below. Watanuki adjusted his glasses and savored the image of it lying there in the brownish glop, cover splayed out and pages soaked with stagnant watery ooze. Ah, this was the life. But good things don't last forever. Watanuki unclenched his freezing hands from the sill and slammed the window before turning around and walking out toward the kitchen.

He studiously avoided looking at the book that lay, innocently and devilishly, on the neatly rolled futon in the corner. Damn thing had it for him anyway.

* * *

The doorbell rang and Watanuki answered it with his coat halfway on, a bentou box hanging loosely from one hand. Doumeki stood outside, a scarf wrapped around his neck and an indifferent expression on his face. Behind him, snow was falling in light, drifting flakes. 

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"OF COURSE NOT, YOU IDIOT, CAN'T YOU SEE I'M NOT EVEN WEARING SHOES??" Watanuki flailed at him, preparing to go into full rant mode. It was his comfort zone, after all. But Doumeki sidestepped easily.

"You have been known to do stranger things."

"Oh, what do you know? You're one to talk about strange things, you CRETIN. Ah, now I can't find my boots and I'm going to FREEZE TO DEATH BECAUSE YOU'RE STANDING THERE WITH THE STUPID DOOR OPEN WHEN IT'S SNOWING OUTSIDE! Jeez, you can be so insensitive," Watanuki fumed, slamming the door and leaving Doumeki to kick the snow off his feet onto the welcome mat while Watanuki scurried around attempting to find his absent winter wear. How was it that every year things managed to disappear between one winter and the next? And how was it that Doumeki always managed to look relaxed and dashing and handsome, while Watanuki was stuck looking like a self-conscious string bean in his too-large sweaters dorky snow boots? At least school uniforms were a plus in this case, he supposed. The long, heavy overcoats minimized the difference between the two, rather than maximizing it. And they were black as well, a nice, utilarian color. Even if he really looked better in blue.

"I could carry you," Doumeki offered, derailing Watanuki's train of thought and sending it careening into the snowy, slushy mess at the side of the tracks. "If you can't find your shoes, that is." He did not look ashamed. In fact, his countenance had not changed except for the slightest glimmer in his eye that might have counted as Doumeki-style laughter.

Watanuki emerged slowly from the wreckage of his mental process, grasping at whatever came his way. "My... my feet would still be cold," he said intelligently.

"It would be better than walking," Doumeki shrugged, a trace of a smirk on his face. "At least that way you would only end up with frostbite, not hypothermia."

"Oh, for...look, would you PLEASE JUST SHUT UP— ah, there they are!" Watanuki exclaimed, making a leap for the back of the closet where his tall boots still lurked. He hauled them out and started to pull them over his thick socks, all the while serenading his companion with a constant tirade.

"Anyway, AS I WAS SAYING, you have got to be THE MOST COMPLETELY UNRESPONSIVE human being on this WHOLE PLANET, and also the stupidest, because you just never, ever, ever THINK before you say anything! And by the way, don't ask me what we're supposed to be doing today because if Yuuko-san didn't tell you, you can bet she didn't tell me, despite the fact that I am her loyal and long-suffering SERVANT and you are nothing but one big annoying COMMUNICATION ISSUE. But noooo, that doesn't matter to the great Yuuko-san..." he paused for breath, and in that pause Doumeki grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the snow, Watanuki screeching all the while.

"We're supposed to go the park, right?" Doumeki interrupted him.

"Yes—"

"It's kind of rude to be so loud in a public place."

"Why, you—! I ought to never make you lunch again, and just let you STARVE, you CULINARILY-IMPAIRED MOOCHER, YOU!" But Watanuki did quiet down a little bit. After all, it was the park. And it was likely that they would be dealing with something less than friendly in it. Watanuki had already noted the bow slung over Doumeki's shoulder and assumed that he was concerned.


	3. Stupid laws of physics

"It's nice today," Doumeki told him impassively as the two meandered their way along the icy path, eyes alert for any sign of their mission. Watanuki, as usual, rather expected something large and inhuman and possibly drooling to bound their way at any moment, as was readily apparent on his nervous face. Doumeki, also as usual, stared straight ahead and braced himself for whatever minor disaster they were set to encounter today. 

Watanuki growled at him. It was certainly not a "nice day." He went over a mental checklist: slush in boots? Check. Old boots to start with? Check. Distinct possibility of sudden death approaching? Check. Evil demon book hanging around? Check. How could it possibly be a "nice day", as Doumeki suggested?!

Waitaminnit. Wait one goddamn minute. Why wasn't Doumeki on that checklist? Was Watanuki insane? Had he finally flipped? Watanuki knew people called him crazy sometimes, but in all actuality he was a _very sane person_, thank you very much, right up until the point when his freaking _subconscious_ held his rational mind at gunpoint and convinced it to give up its grip on reality. Then again, why was his subconscious in on the matter, anyway?

"AUGH," Watanuki finally exploded, slapping a hand to his face. Doumeki looked at him sideways.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Watanuki spat, "That is any of your business, thank you very much."

"It is my business," Doumeki responded.

"What the—why?"

"Because I care about what happens to you."

Watanuki's thought process derailed once again. This time the damage was compounded by the weight of his earlier thoughts, and therefore Watanuki's brain promptly ditched his vocal control in a desperate attempt to save itself from the plummet.

It failed spectacularly.

"I would prefer that the only one of us who can reliably see spirits remain effective if we are to encounter one," Doumeki clarified, turning on one heel to face him. "So, are you all right?

Watanuki sputtered. Doumeki waited.

"Oi," he said, and waited some more.

Watanuki stared up at the other boy's face with a sense of growing hatred. He really shouldn't be acting like this. There was no reason to be acting like this. The person before him was none other than Doumeki the Bastard, his arch nemesis. This guy had been messing with his life from the beginning and now, it seemed, had decided to mess with his head as well, and Watanuki hated him for it.

Right now, for example, his face was burning. That was Doumeki's fault, that idiot had leaned in too far. His hands were shaking; that was also Doumeki's fault, taking him out in the cold today and not even offering to share a pair of mittens. His heart was pumping like a fast-paced metronome, strict and demanding and breathless. That was also Doumeki's fault, although Watanuki didn't know or care why. He wasn't going to sit through one more of the archer's patronizing glances.

"Idiot," Watanuki growled, both hands shooting out to land on Doumeki's chest. He gave a mighty shove, registering with smugness the surprised expression on the taller boy's face.

He then registered, in quick succession, the fact that Doumeki had oddly enough _not_ moved, the fact that Watanuki _had_, the sensation of something impacting the back of his heel and throwing him off balance, and then an all-obscuring and unexpected view of the gray sky. Watanuki's boots scrabbled on the icy sidewalk, struggling to regain control as his world tilted out from under him. A patch of slush he hadn't known was there squelched beneath his heel. And then, to top everything off, the world was blotted out by the shadow of a horrifyingly familiar red leather cover that had materialized approximately ten feet above him in the chilly air.

* * *

"Owww..." 

Ok. So. He fell. That he remembered. He was clumsy and he fell, and most likely looked like an idiot...definitely looked like an idiot.

Stupid snow and ice. Stupid Doumeki being bigger than him. Stupid laws of physics.

"Ow. Ouch," he said again.

"You are an idiot," Doumeki replied impassively, reclining against the back of the park bench, his bow leaned against the armrest beside him. "How's your head?"

"HEY!" Watanuki came fully awake, righteous anger automatically filling his brain. "Is that ANY WAY TO TREAT SOMEBODY who just got KNOCKED OUT? You don't have ANY RIGHT to call me an idiot! Just because I happened to miscalculate a little bit in my state of EXTREME PISSED-OFF-NESS at your total inability to leave me ALONE when I want to be left alone..." Watanuki pulled himself upright, rubbing furiously at the sore spot on the bridge of his nose. He took a breath, preparing to continue his rant, when three things suddenly became excruciatingly clear:

One: his nose hurt, when he had most definitely fallen backward. This meant that he had not only gotten whacked in the face by the book, but had also been saved from falling the rest of the way by something or someone—most likely the stoic faced boy currently sitting across from him.

Two: he was sitting (or more accurately _lying_, as that had been his initial position) on a bench a good ways away from the place where he had fallen. The mechanism for this move was also most likely sitting across from him. _Yes, Watanuki,_ said a little voice in his head (one that sounded suspiciously like Yuuko)._ That means that he picked you up and carried you over here, which does involve actual physical contact, much as you would like to deny it. In fact, it involved his warm, strong arms encircling your waist and cushioning your head as he carried you bridal-style over to this bench—"_ Watanuki told his inner voice firmly to SHUT UP.

And three, most worrisomely of all: Doumeki was holding _the book_, cracked open about halfway through, in his lap.

Watanuki's thoughts did not derail this time. They simply came to a halt, every last bit of fuel evaporating soundlessly as his mouth worked in confusion and disbelief.

"That's not what I meant when I said you were an idiot," Doumeki told him calmly, gesturing toward the book. "I was talking about this."

"Give it back," Watanuki managed in a strangled voice.

"No."

"Wha...?"

"Not until you prove that it's not dangerous."

"Wha...?"

"Tell me," Doumeki said intensely, leaning right over to look Watanuki in the eye, "What does it say?"

"Wha...?" said Watanuki, again, faintly.

Doumeki shrugged. "I can't read it. I think there's something there, like shadows of words on the paper, but the only thing I can read clearly just says 'Ask Watanuki Kimihiro'. So I'm asking you."

Watanuki steadied himself. It seemed that life had taken far too many unexpected turns recently, and he was beginning to feel a bit nauseous, rather like getting off a roller coaster. But he was nothing if not a trooper, and so he resolved to take this as a stroke of good fortune.

_There will be a price to pay_, Yuuko said cheerily in his head, and Watanuki decided he had been spending far too much time around the dimensional witch. She was starting to infest his brain waves.

"It's none of your business," said Watanuki firmly to Doumeki.

"Oh."

There was a pause. Watanuki continued being firm:

"Anyways, it's mine."

"I see."

My, this firmness thing was working surprisingly well!

"Right. Well then. Give it back."

"No."

"Good. Hey, wait—what?" Watanuki stood up, brow furled. "What do you mean, 'No'? That's my book!"

"I don't care," Doumeki told him calmly, sliding the offending stack of parchment under his jacket for safekeeping, as if knowing that was one place where Watanuki was not about to attempt to retrieve it. "I think it's dangerous, and I think you're lying to me, and therefore I am keeping it."

"WHAT?? YOU CAN'T JUST DO THAT, YOU PSYCHO! THAT'S _MY BOOK_! GIVE IT!"

"Sorry."

"SORRY IS NOT AN ANSWER! I don't want you to have it, so HAND IT FREAKIN' OVER! I—I'LL—"

"You'll what?"

"DAMMIT!" Watanuki stamped a foot on the ground, Doumeki raising an eyebrow at his childish behavior. Watanuki growled at him. Then he stopped and took a deep, calming breath. "Just... come on, give it back, will you?"

"No."

"WHAT THE HELL DO I HAVE TO DO FOR YOU?"

Doumeki snorted softly and took a step toward Watanuki, who stared at him with a faltering frown. Then Doumeki crossed his arms and leaned in toward Watanuki's face, nose to nose, his gaze stabbing right through Watanuki. The other boy froze stiff as a strand of dark hair brushed his face.

"Stop lying to me," he said simply.

"Eh?" Watanuki muttered weakly.

"You heard. It's six o'clock; Yuuko said our mission would be over by now. I'll walk you home."

"But we didn't do anything..."

Doumeki was silent. His bow and quiver of arrows hung loosely on his back, his eyes distant in thought. Watanuki could see the faint tracings of a scowl in the gathering twilight. Something twisted in his gut. Doumeki was right, after all. He was lying—by omission, of course. But did he have any other choice? It wasn't like he could come right out and _say _everything that was pounding at the inside of his skull. Doumeki would... who knows? Explode, maybe. Or kill him. Something like that.

Watanuki hated to admit it, but he really needed to talk to Yuuko.

* * *

**What? Did you think I was gonna resolve this thing? -- **


	4. into a gentle, poetic kiss

"Good mooooorning, Watanuki-kun!" Yuuko trilled the moment she saw him. "You're just in time to help with winter cleaning. Got to scrub the shop up before the new year!" 

"Help?" Watanuki replied pointedly. "Yuuko-san, you're just sitting on the couch."

"Why, of course I am!" Yuuko giggled. "Let's get to work, hmm?" She didn't move.

Watanuki adjusted his glasses. "Yuuko-san, for me to_ help_ with cleaning there has to be someone _else_ doing work..." he broke off, seeing as Yuuko had already moved on to welcoming a plate of treats and sake from the twins with loud and appreciative cooing. Watanuki sighed. "Never mind."

"So, Watanuki-kun," Yuuko's voice stopped him as he made to pick up the mop and bucket already placed thoughtfully at the door. The twins had quieted down from their earlier attempts to serve Mokona on a platter along with the drinks, and were now sitting demurely on either side of Yuuko's dais. Watanuki looked up in apprehension.

"What now?"

"Anything you want to tell me?"

Obviously, it was foolish to hope that Yuuko's powers had been magically leeched away during the night. She was just as painfully observant as usual, her unearthly eyes shining with teasing calmness as she watched her employee squirm.

"Ah... the book..."

"What about it?"

Watanuki bit his lip. "Somebody got it... has it... who I don't exactly want reading it."

"Doumeki-kun, I assume?" The dimensional witch rested her head on a pillow, staring at him sideways through the haze of smoke from a pipe that had materialized who-knows-when. Watanuki wrinkled his nose at the smell, more in reflex than actual disgust.

"Uh... yeah. Him."

"And may I ask how our august mutual acquaintance came by this coveted property?"

Watanuki rapidly thought of several ways to disagree with the exact wording of that question, before deciding to just save himself the trouble and answer it.

"He stole it, of course!"

Yuuko laughed. "Oh, _'of course'_, he says. You would think Doumeki-kun were a burglar and in the habit of snatching away precious things! Or perhaps he is, eh, Watanuki-kun?" Her expression was the facial equivalent of elbowing someone teasingly in the ribs. Watanuki flinched and ground his teeth. "Oh, oh, don't answer that! Yuuko said happily. "I can see you don't want to!

"Ah, but I understand," she continued. "And now you're afraid that he's going to crack the code on that pretty little tome and spill all the secrets of your heart, isn't that right? Well, I can assure you of one thing: he won't figure out how to read it."

Watanuki felt the melting sensation of relief sweep over him.

"He won't need to, after all," said Yuuko calmly.

The melting sensation disappeared, replaced with a rather rapid re-crystallization of anxiety.

"Excuse me?"

Yuuko sighed. "Sit down, Watanuki-kun."

* * *

"It's what?" Watanuki asked for the fourth time, uncertainty sketching itself across his forehead. "I still don't get it." 

"That book," Yuuko repeated slowly, "Is a physical manifestation of the conflict between your subconscious mind and the workings of your prefrontal cortex. It's here to stop the repression of certain emotions not generally welcomed by your psyche and bring them into the realm of conscious thought."

"Which means?"

"You're in denial, Watanuki-kun."

"I AM NOT!"

Yuuko laugh uproariously, knocking back yet another glass of sake. "Yes, you are," she snickered. "See? You're denying it right now."

"What? I can't deny that I'm in denial, that wouldn't make any sense!"

"And now you're denying that you're denying that you're in denial."

"NO! I deny the idea that I am denying that I'm denying that I'm denying... wait, that's too many _'denying'_s..."

"You see what I mean? Anyway, you asked for my opinion, Watanuki dear. And I'm giving it to you! You, my friend, are madly in love with Doumeki-kun and the book is here to make you admit that."

Watanuki slumped against the wall, his long pale hand draped across his eyes like a shield against the waves of headache-inducing madness issuing from his employer's mouth. "Why me?" he asked, not entirely rhetorically. "Even assuming you're right about all this _(which you are NOT, by the way),_ then why not... oh, I don't know... someone else? Or why not _every_ person with a messed up mind and a secret? How come there aren't just swarms and swarms of insane stalker books chasing everyone, everywhere, all the time?"

Yuuko tutted. "You should know better than to ask that question, Watanuki-kun. While other people might just feel the book's presence as a pressing urge to acknowledge the truth, you actually have a spirit strong enough to create an object, something real and concrete! Not everyone has that power. So really, it's your _gift_ to have that book."

"Hmph."

"...Aaaaafter all, without it you might spend the rest of your days a lonely bachelor!"

"AS IF!"

"In all seriousness, though," Yuuko said suddenly, reverting back to her mysterious persona. "You do have something of a problem now, with this book in Doumeki-kun's possession. You see, you can't hide your thoughts forever. Any day now, the words in that book are going to become clearer, resolve themselves into sentences and pages, and reveal your... wandering consciousness, shall we say? And I'm certain you don't want that." Watanuki shook his head fervently. Yuuko sighed in feigned regret.

"Well, I cannot destroy the book for you, as it is a part of yourself. Not to mention that the effort on my part would incur a debt equal to a bond of employment rather longer than your projected life span. Nor can I hide it from Doumeki-kun. That leaves you with four choices:

"You can simply allow the magic of the book to run its course." Watanuki made a face to indicate that this option would occupy the same level of hell as having his fingernails pried off while watching the twins perform teletubbies scripts. "Yes, I thought so," Yuuko said carelessly, examining her nails.

"Option number two: you can tell Doumeki-kun exactly how you feel, thereby removing the need for the book's existence." Watanuki made a face similar to his previous one, except with a little more violent loathing and fear. "Not so likely, hmm? Too bad.

"Option number three: you can stop thinking _that way_ about your beloved archer."

Watanuki looked thoughtful, as though considering this idea. "I suppose I could work on that," he said doubtfully. "Not that there's much to work on, in my opinion."

The dimensional witch snorted and rolled her eyes in weary resignation. "Is that so? Watch this. _And then_," she recited dramatically, as though from a memorized text, "_Doumeki swept down and drew the other boy into a gentle, poetic kiss, his tongue soft in Watanuki's mouth, dark hair sweeping against the pale skin of his— _Oh, for goodness' sake, Watanuki-kun, I didn't even finish the sentence!" Yuuko exclaimed in exasperation to her furiously blushing servant. "Do you really think that you can remove every incriminating thought from your head with reactions like _that_?"

"It's NOT my FAULT!" yelled Watanuki, attempting to force the blood back out of his brain before any more deeply disturbing images had a chance to sneak out of his over-active imagination. "It's YOURS for saying such weird things!"

"Ah, young love," Yuuko reminisced to no one in particular.

"SHADDUP!"

"Whaaaaat? Don't be so mean to your wonderful employer!"

Really, there was a point at which one lost civility in the face of provocation, no matter how badly one wished to remain calm. Watanuki was teetering on that point, and he knew it. He closed his eyes and attempted to meditate on all possible ramifications of the statement "Bad things happen to those who attack omnipotent vengeful sorceresses." (In reality, there weren't too many ramifications to consider, but they were all sufficiently worrisome to eliminate any thoughts of serious retaliation.)

"Yuuko-san," he said, in what he considered a highly rational and controlled manner, "What, then, is my last option?"

Yuuko turned over onto her stomach and chuckled softly, obviously savoring what she was about to say. Watanuki very much doubted that it was something helpful. An icy feeling of dread began to settle slowly from the back of his throat down to somewhere into his toes, sending resigned shivers along the length of his spine.

"Why... steal it back, _of course_," the dimensional witch replied with a wicked grin.

* * *

**Merry Christmas! **


	5. Operation Demon Book

**Erm... this one's a little strange... I swear we will get some more fun stuff in the next chapters!**

* * *

Watanuki Kimihiro had a varied résumé. Whether or not it was the type to attract many potential employers (Yuuko excluded), it was by far the most interesting among his peers. It included such niche talents seeing supernatural beings, cleaning invisible stores, speaking to ghosts, escaping from spirits, flailing, babbling, insulting, and recalling from memory an outstanding repertoire of sake-related recipes. It also, had it existed on actual paper, might have chronicled the following valuable job experience: time spent working as a chef, part-time indentured servant, babysitter, house-sitter, high school student, decoy, spirit bait, entertainer, demon-sensor, and errand boy. 

Today another exiting reference could be added to the imaginary document: hands-on training as an amateur ninja.

Watanuki, crouched on the temple rooftop dressed all in black (likely incurring the wrath of whatever gods happened to be watching), reflected resignedly that it might be a long time before he got a real job. On the other hand, he would rather spend his life conducting an eternal job search than die of embarrassment at a tragically young age. No, today would be a day of glory for Watanuki: Operation Demon Book was about to be completed.

Watanuki dropped silently, catlike, off the roof and onto the steps of the temple. He had been working for days to bring about this moment, hours spent hiding in the bushes watching patterns of movement around the Doumeki residence. Through rain and snow and spirit hoards chasing him down the road until he reached the cleansing aura of the temple, Watanuki had survived and struggled onward. He had finally mapped out a time when the temple was closed, the adults out, and the archer himself safely occupied with practice after school, and laid plans for his ultimate invasion. Extra precautions had been taken in the clothing department, lest someone or something managed to recognize him. Watanuki wore a hooded black sweatshirt and a scarf that wrapped around his nose to disguise his features. He had even exchanged his glasses for contacts in honor of the occasion. One could never be too careful when dealing with such a monumental task.

Operation Demon Book involved the following steps:

1. Break into Doumeki's home.

2. Break into Doumeki's room.

3. Find the book.

4. Grab the book.

5. Get out of Doumeki's room.

6. Slip out of the moonlit grounds and escape into the shadowy cloak of night (or possibly mid-afternoon; it didn't matter too much.)

It was very simple, really, but vitally important. Yuuko had told him there would only be five or six days before Doumeki was able to read every word in the book. And that had to be prevented at all costs. And so Watanuki found himself now, at the door of the Doumeki family temple, searching for a way in.

It seemed rather unkind to break a window, as the building itself hadn't done anything for which Watanuki might hold a grudge. But a broken lock, he decided, wouldn't be so bad. He had no idea how to lock pick, but he had noticed that most of the windows on the front of the house were held closed by a rather flimsy device that could most likely be busted with a good sharp blow.

Out came the hammer. Watanuki raised it over his head (thankful that the temple wall obscured any view of his activities from the road outside), twirled it in what he considered a majestic manner, and brought it crashing down onto the window lock. The plastic cracked under the blow and one jagged chip skittered forlornly across the ground. Ok, that was good.

Watanuki pressed his palms against the glass, strained for a second, and then winced ever so slightly as the portal to enemy territory opened with a resounding screech. He took a deep breath, hoping fervently that there would be no burglar alarm to greet him. There wasn't.

He was in.

* * *

Doumeki Shizuka had an impressive résumé. Unlike Watanuki's, it was in fact likely to attract potential employers. Archery club, student council, honors classes, excellent grades, wonderful references—there was hardly a company that wouldn't have taken him. But his greatest talent wasn't something that could be written down and referenced: Doumeki was wise beyond his years. 

So when the archery coach announced that practice would end early today, and the shadow of a thought ghosted across the archer's mind—something about hitsuzen he had heard once—he considered it a sign. Things happen for a reason, after all. Nothing is coincidence.

Now, Doumeki suspected, would be an excellent time to head home.

* * *

Watanuki _crept_ across the smooth wood floor of the entryway, _slunk_ through a door and into the kitchen, and then tiptoed_ very warily_ around the corner by a rack of sinister looking mops and brooms. He was doing everything rather _creepingly_, _slinkingly_, and _warily_, since that seemed pretty ninja-like. Next, he resolved, he would _cautiously_ inspect the doors in said hallway, determine the correct one to enter in a highly _sneaky_ and _undetectable_ manner, and reach his target as _silently_ and _stealthily_ as possible. There would be no clumsy mistakes today. Ninja Watanuki was on the prowl. 

First door on the right was a study of sorts; a quick scan revealed there to be no books other than those arranged neatly on the shelves. None of those were red. The second door opened onto a laundry room and a drying rack draped festively with underwear. Watanuki regarded it with horror. He eased the door closed with a shiver, deciding never to think on this incident again. On with the mission.

Next up was a small, dark room with few identifying features beyond an extra bow leaned against the wall in one corner, and the sliding door of a cabinet in back. Target area: identified. Watanuki slipped into Doumeki's room, flicking on the light surreptitiously as he went.

The room was predictably like its inhabitant—sullen, simple, and uncommunicative. On the wall hung a framed picture in which the only subject was a delicate silver mountain stream, cascading around minimalistic black stones that jutted from the surface. On the floor lay a woven mat and a low desk stacked with books.

Books! Watanuki's heart leaped as he knelt beside the desk, hastily digging through the stack. Textbooks—math, Japanese Literature, English, biology—made up most of the titles. Then there were a few obscure ones on history or folklore (_What's with that?_ Watanuki wondered), and even a novel or two with dog eared pages and bent bookmarks. No red book.

Next Watanuki tried cabinet, glancing across the folded clothes and sheets in search of something, anything out of the ordinary. Doumeki _had_ to have hidden the thing here somewhere; the guy was way too dumb to have foreseen Watanuki's raid. It was only logical.

"C'mon, c'mon," he muttered, growling at a line of archery trophies at the back of one shelf. He opened another drawer and began rifling through it. "Where the heck did you _put_ it, you socially impaired thieving bandit, you..."

Then a scrap of red caught his eye.

"Found you," Watanuki breathed gleefully, wrinkling his nose and reaching out to snatch the book. This _thing_ had been lurking about in his dreams for the past few nights (the annoyance it caused topped only by the sheer horror at the apparition of a certain silent and insensitive scoundrel in the same dreams.).

Well. Anyway. The book might not have been his first choice as companion, but he was willing to deal with it. After all, he had only two days left in the five Yuuko had promised, and Watanuki though grimly that there was _no way in hell _Doumeki would read that book while either of them was still on earth. He reached into the drawer purposefully, the cover inches from his fingertips...

"Oi," grunted a voice beside him, its tone altogether neutral and uninterested. "Any particular reason you're interested in my socks?"

Watanuki literally jumped three feet into the air.

* * *

**My true motive for writing fanfiction is to torment Watanuki. Endlessly.  
**


	6. Pretty Please!

"Ah. Buh. I. Um. Not. Gak. Like. Oh _crap_." 

"Well, that was a coherent sentence."

"I... I... I'm not interested in your stupid socks!" Watanuki sputtered.

"It sure looked like you were."

"NO! No, I, uh, wasn't looking in your sock drawer at all! Not at all! I uh... didn't mean for you to...er, I didn't mean to, well, be here! Well, ok, I meant to be here, but... but I... I... I WAS LOOKING FOR SOMETHING ELSE, DAMNIT!"

"What, my underwear drawer?" asked Doumeki skeptically.

"NO! YOU PERVETED WEIRDO!" The archer gave him a look that made it clear who the suspected pervert really ought to be in this case. Watanuki ignored him and attempted to slow his heart rate down from the frightening pace it had attained moments earlier. "Ok," he said when he was ready. "I—I can explain." _Yes. Yes, I can, _he thought._ Ninja Watanuki can deal with this._ But it seemed that all his ninja skills had melted under Doumeki's unreadable stare, leaving him as nothing more than a puddle of ineffective rationalizing ninja sweat. No words came to his mouth.

"Eh," he said, by way of explanation.

Doumeki, leaning against the wall as though this were the sort of thing that happened every day, sighed wearily.

"You wanted the book, didn't you?"

"Ah..."

"You can't have it."

Several seconds passed as Watanuki contemplated the shear obviousness of this statement. Then, "YOU COMPLETE IDIOT! That is the freaking POINT, you obtuse _ape_! YOU WON'T GIVE IT TO ME! If you were going to just hand it over do you think I would BE HERE NOW?"

"Yes."

"WHAT the—?"

"Well, this _is_ where my underwear drawer is."

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU."

"Now would be a good time. The bloodstains would blend right in with the color of your face."

Watanuki pulled his mask down further over his burning face and glared at Doumeki. "_Bastard_."

"It's true."

"No, IT'S NOT!"

Doumeki regarded his companion with interest, noting the lack of glasses and tufts of hair springing like escaped prisoners from Watanuki's slightly askew headband. The guy was certainly willing to go to great lengths to get that book back—meaning, of course, that Doumeki was under no circumstances going to allow him to get it. It must be very interesting. He reached around Watanuki and drew the book out of its sock-lined lair.

"Hey! What are you doing? Pay attention to me!" Watanuki saw where the archer's motions were headed and scrabbled to gain a hold on the red cover. Doumeki, however, was already tucking the offending tome under one arm.

"GIVE THAT TO ME!" Watanuki wailed.

"Say 'please'."

"JUST GIVE IT."

"How about 'pretty please'."

"Augh, NO!"

"Fine," Doumeki said abruptly. "Forget I ever offered, then." He turned and began to march from the room. Watanuki followed him into the hall.

"Hey, wait," he said placatingly. "Look, can't we just, I don't know, discuss a deal or something? I mean, there's got to be _something_ that we could work out..."

"I don't think so," replied Doumeki, a hard edge in his voice, striding purposefully toward the kitchen.

"But I really need it! I can't explain why, you just have to trust me, ok?"

"No."

Watanuki growled. "I hate you, you know that?"

"Hm."

Watanuki seethed. It seemed that this... _freak_ had been sent to earth by the powers-that-be for the sole purpose of annoying him—poor, innocent Watanuki— into an early grave. No matter what he did or said, no matter his grand plans or intentions, Doumeki insisted upon foiling them. With only a few words he could entirely ruin Watanuki's mood, or with only a sideways look destroy his composure. It was _unfair_, he thought. It was unfair and unjust and undeserved and a whole lot of other un- words that pertained to the situation. Including unbelievable. Why did he allow someone with the intellect and tact of a particularly stupid bull to constantly get the better of him?

Doumeki walked in silence to the kitchen counter and turned his back on the other boy. Watanuki lingered by the island stewing in silent wrath.

"There's a chair in the corner," Doumeki grunted, dropping the book on the counter without any sort of fanfare.

"I don't want it," Watanuki said peevishly.

"Take it."

Watanuki took it.

He waited.

He waited a bit more.

He ran his fingers across the smooth speckled surface of the countertop and waited some more.

"Are you making _tea_?" he said incredulously, at last.

"Mm-hm."

"It's VERY RUDE to make tea just for yourself, you know!"

"Well, I'm not."

"It's DOUBLY rude not to ask your guest what he wants! Sheesh, what kind of host are you?"

"A bad one," Doumeki acknowledged, placing the steaming cup on the counter in front of Watanuki before seating himself on the edge of the counter a ways off. "Tell me what's going on."

"You sit on the _counter_?" Watanuki squealed in horror, not to be put off. "Do you have any _idea _how UNSANITARY that is?"

"Yeah."

"Hmph." Watanuki eyed Doumeki with disapproval. "You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Get off the counter, then." Doumeki slipped off the counter and sauntered over to the side opposite Watanuki. He leaned his elbows on the tile, waiting.

"Now say 'please'."

"Please," said Doumeki sincerely.

"Well, I'm NOT TELLING!" Watanuki shouted triumphantly.

Doumeki snorted softly. "You are an extremely obstinate person," he observed. "Why won't you tell me?"

"It's a personal matter, ok?"

"Right."

There was a pause.

"Your point?" Doumeki asked curiously.

"Um, HELLO? Personal means _you are not involved_." Watanuki looked daggers at Doumeki, who stood serenely sipping his tea as though absolutely nothing could intrude upon his perfectly oblivious state.

"I am involved, though," he replied reasonably.

"YOU DON'T NEED TO BE!"

Doumeki looked unfazed. "If I didn't keep showing up places where I don't need to be, you would be dead several times over."

"And happier for it, I sometimes think," Watanuki muttered darkly.

"Liar," Doumeki said with a hint of a smile. He leaned back, stood straight up and drained the last of his tea from the cup with a final gulp. "Are you really not going to tell me?" he asked Watanuki, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"No!"

"Hmm. Too bad." That ghost of a smile continued to hover on his face.

"What's with the freaky smug expression?" Watanuki inquired suspiciously. "Are you planning something?"

Doumeki gave his usual not-exactly verbose answer:

"Well...I've still got the book."

* * *

**Beebopa doopa dee!**


	7. Terminal shyness

**Sorry this took so long to update :(  
**

_

* * *

this is bad this is bad this is really really really bad because you know what I can picture all this getting written down right at this very moment and Doumeki reading it oh god please don't let him be reading it don't let him only two days left only two two two it can't possibly be two this the countdown to Armageddon yes that's right Yuuko you can stop making fun of me now

* * *

_

"Watanuki's plan got foiled!" Yuuko sang happily, draped over the swing in such a manner as to indicate that she had no skeletal system whatsoever. A glass of sake dangled from her long fingers.

"Foiled!" echoed Mokona in reply, causing Watanuki to grimace at the small creature.

"Yes, well, why don't you help me DO something about it instead of sitting there MOCKING me, huh?" He gestured with the feather duster toward Yuuko's prone position in annoyance. "Have you ever considered that you will be without a servant if I die of embarrassment on Wednesday? That means NO MORE SAKE FETCHING! And you won't be able to lie there in obscene laziness all the time because SOMEONE has to do all this work, and I'M the only one who ever even MAKES AN EFFORT!" He shook the cleaning implement at her to punctuate his point.

"Look," cooed Yuuko to the twins, who were seated off to one side watching Watanuki work. "Watanuki's doing the feather duster dance again!"

"Feather duster dance," the twins said solemnly, with the air of someone being bestowed with the ultimate knowledge of the universe. "Watanuki does the feather duster dance! Always dancing featherly."

Yuuko chuckled. "Very featherly. Just look at those arms go! Like a windmill, don't you think?"

"Windmill!"

"Featherly windmill!"

"WOULD YOU KINDLY LISTEN TO ME?"

"Watanuki, don't be so loud," his employer said in semi-drunk annoyance. "It's not good for my head."

Watanuki decided to overlook the fact that Yuuko had been the source of most of the noise for the last few minutes, and attempted to appeal to her (very limited) capacity for sympathy.

"Yuuko-san," he asked calmly, "_Please_ help me. What would it take to get that book back? Just a simple movement from there to here? It can't be _that_ much."

"More than you can pay, Watanuki-kun. We've been over this before, ne? Your dedication to preserving your relationship with Doumeki is to be admired," she said slyly. "But I would hate to be considered an enabler in your case of terminal shyness."

"It's NOT SHYNESS! THE DAMN BOOK IS LYING ABOUT ME, OK?"

"My, my! 'The lady doth protest too much, methinks'!"

"Have you gone INSANE?"

"It's a quote, Watanuki," Yuuko said tiredly. "But really, you shouldn't ask me to remove the book from Doumeki's possession. It's hitsuzen; it will just come back to him some other way."

"Ok, so how about you just make it invisible?"

"Sorry."

"Make it grow poisonous spikes?"

"No."

"Let Mokona eat it?"

"Absolutely not."

"FINE!" yelled Watanuki in exasperation. "Can't you just make Doumeki BLIND, then?"

"Is that a fetish, Watanuki?" Yuuko watched in delight as her employee did several convincing fainting imitations. The twins rushed over to fan him.

"Really, though, Watanuki-kun," said Yuuko thoughtfully, turning over on her stomach and propping her chin up with the one hand not occupied by a sake glass. Any other man would have gone right back down after being revived to the view that Watanuki was granted when he sat up. Yuuko adjusted the neckline of her robe. "I'm not so sure any of that will be necessary."

"Eh?"

"You see, Doumeki may have picked up... a few tricks from hanging around with you... and me."

"Such as?" asked Watanuki warily.

"Such as the principle of equal exchange," replied Yuuko with a menacingly sweet smile. "I do believe he'd make an excellent businessman."

"What are you saying, Yuuko-san?" The dimensional witch was notorious for her ability to create loopholes in the simplest of statements, and Watanuki had discovered that it was not only intelligent, but actually _necessary_ to ask follow up questions in order to avoid getting stabbed in the back by his own boss.

"What I'm saying is that he may be able to offer you... rather better terms than I can due to his substantial bias in your favor."

Watanuki thought this was rather unfair as Doumeki seemed to have even _less_ of a bias for him than Yuuko did, considering his recent behavior. And anyway, what sort of "terms" did Yuuko have in mind? Watanuki decided it was better not to know.

"You want me,"he spelled out slowly, carefully, "To go find Doumeki..."

"Yes!"

"...and then try to bargain with him..."

"Correct!"

"... in order to get back what _he_ stole from _me_ in the first place?"

"Mm-hm!" Yuuko looked pleased with herself. Watanuki was really very adept at figuring these things out when given the right clues.

"What kind of IDIOT do I LOOK LIKE?"

Ok, so maybe he could use some work on the acceptance bit now.

"It's _hitsuzen_, Watanuki," Yuuko said in annoyance. "You don't have a choice; you're _going_ to do it. Now, go get me some more sake and I'll even let you off work early to go fulfill your destiny!" She gestured expansively toward him. "No need to thank me."

"Only because you'll charge me for it," Watanuki replied sourly.

"How very right you are," Yuuko giggled, balancing Mokona on the palm of her hand and petting it.

"Very right!" bubbled the creature happily.

Yuuko smiled in satisfaction as Watanuki stomped out of the room. He was _much _too worked up over all this. Hitsuzen was obviously doing its job.

Watanuki snorted in an extremely undignified manner and went off to fetch some more alcohol—preferably enough to give his employer a nasty hangover in the morning. Hitsuzen obviously had something against him

* * *

The melting snow dripped apathetically from the eaves and shingles of the temple, matching Watanuki's rather soggy mood as he stood before its painted gate. He could hardly believe he was doing this. But it was now only _one_ day to go before ignition on the ticking time bomb planted in Doumeki's house, and Watanuki would be damned if he got taken out by the blast without at least attempting to disarm it. Operation Demon Book had failed. Yuuko had failed. Two more attempts to break and enter had spectacularly failed, falling flat with the force of a tripping elephant when Doumeki had confronted him less than three steps inside the house. So now, with nowhere left to turn, Watanuki was forced to consider the alternatives. 

He decided that for all this talk about swallowing one's pride, the stuff was extremely unappetizing.

Watanuki squared his shoulders and walked through the gate.

* * *

"Again?" was all Doumeki said when he found a glaring, tomato red Watanuki standing on the doorstep for the fourth time in three days. "You're tracking in a lot of snow, you know." 

"...'Msrygs," Watanuki mumbled. That was how Yuuko had told him to start out, by apologizing for his rude behavior.

"What?"

"I said I'm... srywhtvr." Sorry. Whatever. Damn, those words were hard to work with.

Doumeki raised an eloquent eyebrow.

"Well, at least you're not in my underwear drawer again," he shrugged.

"IT WASN'T YOUR GODDAMN UNDERWEAR DRAWER!" Watanuki exploded. "Jeez, I'm here to freaking APOLOGIZE and you can't even keep your mind out of the gutter, you IDIOT! Why do I even put up with you?"

"I didn't hear any apology," the archer pointed out. He tried to look annoyed but only ended up with a weary expression.

"You weren't listening," said Watanuki snidely, and stomped into the kitchen. He was scanning around for a place to put his coat when he saw the book laying innocently on the counter.

"No." Doumeki told him, following his gaze. He gestured at a chair. "Sit."

Several expressions of outrage and righteous indignation crawled across Watanuki's face in rapid succession. "Excuse me, I am NOT a DOG!"

"I know."

Watanuki seethed. "So don't treat me like one," he added lamely.

"I won't."

"You just WERE!"

Doumeki waited patiently.

"Fine, fine," Watanuki muttered, as though Doumeki had been pressing him for information (which he hadn't.) "I'm here because I want to get the book back. Which you know already. Yeah. And I want to... negotiate for it."

There was a pause. "With what?" Doumeki asked at last.

"I dunno. Bentou, maybe? I'll make you a weeks worth of bentou if you give it back to me, ok?"

"No, thanks."

"A month?" Watanuki said hopefully.

"No."

"A _year_?" Doumeki shook his head.

"What if I promise to make you whatever you want?"

"I don't want bentou," Doumeki said. Watanuki experienced an epic sinking feeling, rather like a large ocean liner plummeting down through the waves. He had guessed this might not work. "...I want you to tell me what the book says," the archer finished firmly. He stared at Watanuki.

There was a dead silence. The ocean liner suddenly morphed into a submarine and gunned its way into the depths at high speed. The color drained from Watanuki's so completely that Doumeki could have sworn he was a light shade of blue.

"Tell... you...?" Watanuki croaked at long last. His fingers drew vague, halfhearted diagrams in the air between them. "But... but... but... but..."

"Final offer," said Doumeki solemnly. He leaned forward so that close that Watanuki had no choice but to look him in the eye. The proximity had a rather serious effect on his mental capabilities. "Take it or leave it."

Watanuki's circulatory system was faced with a serious dilemma as it contemplated whether to turn his face red, or an even whiter shade of pale.

"Um," he said, in complete and total horror.

* * *

**Next on this station: The Confession! -trumpets sound-  
**


	8. Multiple Choice

**At last, here it is! **

* * *

The book lay menacingly on the counter just to Doumeki's right, taunting Watanuki with its unceasing presence. He felt rather betrayed by it. In the beginning it had been so _loyal _to its master (well, despite his continuous attempts to get rid of it), like a good dog that never left his side. Now, though, it had shown its true colors. His life was so crowded with unfair happenings these days, he expected the fire marshall would eventually come and give him hefty fine for exceeding maximum occupancy in his brain. And it was _all that book's fault_. Watanuki glowered at it in righteous indignation. 

Actually, the glowering was also partially an excuse not to look at the very serious Unfair Happening who was staring intensely at him from across the table.

"Why d'ya want to know?" Watanuki mumbled at last, meticulously avoiding meeting Doumeki's gaze. "It's not like its any of _your_ business."

"From your extreme reluctance to tell me, I gather that it is." Doumeki said mildly, but with just the slightest hint of danger in his voice. He was getting annoyed. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

Watanuki closed his eyes. He had three options. The first option was to let Doumeki keep the book, thereby not only exposing the general idea , but also each and every one of the intimate revelations about Watanuki's psyche contained within. Not being entirely comfortable with said revelations himself, he definitely didn't want anyone _else_ to see them. The second option was to lie. He could come up with some stupid reason why he needed the book—something embarrassing, even, to excuse his behavior. Anything besides telling the horrendous truth.

And then, of course, he could do the obvious: undergo extreme mortification by telling Doumeki, _face to face_, exactly why the book was so important. Exactly what it held. Watanuki _could_ just do it, could just let the words flow and wait for the inevitable silence, the shock, the hatred. _At the very least it would get him away from me_, he thought poisonously. _At the very least he'd be so disgusted he'd never want to speak with me again._

Watanuki took a deep breath. Letting Doumeki keep the book was out of the question. Lying would be seen through in an instant. So that meant it had to be...

"The book... is... kind of a log of my thoughts," he began, staring fixedly at the counter. "It's weird, Yuuko-san has some kind of long-winded explanation for it, and I'm not even sure she's right or telling me the truth. She never tells me the whole truth, I think," he said frantically, wondering where he was going with this. "But that's just Yuuko-san, you know? She walks around tormenting me all the time, kind of like you, actually—I think she really enjoys—"

"Watanuki." Doumeki cut him off with a pointed look.

"Ah... right. Well, anyway, it wouldn't leave me alone, this book. It kept appearing and doing strange things like following me around. And so I picked it up and started reading it to see what on earth it had in it, and it was this big incoherent MESS that couldn't possibly have anything to do with my brain, but it had all my thoughts in it! Watanuki could feel himself starting to panic. This was going to be a disaster. But what choice did he have? "And it kept saying all this... this weird stuff which Yuuko-san claims is real, though I _don't _really believe her, I don't—" Watanuki slammed his hands on the table, staring at them as though willing them not to shake.

He couldn't do it. The thread of his sentence was lost, slithered away into the blackness where forgotten and unfinished thoughts are dragged to their doom. He licked his lips and wondered when they had gotten so dry.

Then a hand lifted from the counter, hesitating just a split second before two fingers pressed gently beneath Watanuki's chin, forcing him to look upward. The archer's eyes seemed to cut through him, slicing away all the layers of protection as easily as his arrows sliced spirits from his path.Watanuki thought that maybe he knew what it felt like, now, to be on the other end of one of those arrows, dying in a pure burst of light.

"The book..." he started. Doumeki waited patiently.

"It said...well, I don't believe it, but it said..." Watanuki fought to keep his mask in place, to keep his features from betraying him just as his own thoughts had. Doumeki's hand stayed where it was, tense and waiting.

"...that I... I..."

Something broke.

"DAMN IT, I LOVE YOU!"

* * *

**This chapter is short but I really really wanted to leave off right there. P Don't worry, the next one is posted right after it. -- **


	9. Much Ado About Nothing

**... and the reaction. **

* * *

Doumeki stared. 

Watanuki stared.

Doumeki stared a second longer and opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't even THINK about saying anything," Watanuki hissed "I don't want to hear it. Just... sorry, ok? For being an idiot." He stood up hurriedly, talking as he did so, trying to drown out any complaint from the taller boy who sat frozen at the edge of the counter. "I'll just get out of your house now, ok? You don't even have to ask. I'm just going, no hard feelings... I—I'll tell Yuuko-san not to call you anymore."

"Watanuki," he heard Doumeki's voice hitch slightly, but didn't turn around. Instead his eyes scanned the place where the book had been, now disappeared into thin air. Apparently it had outlived its purpose. _Hell of a purpose,_ Watanuki thought bitterly. He fumbled with the doorknob.

"Watanuki..." Doumeki said again, and Watanuki heard a swishing sound that indicated movement. He wrenched the door open, feeling the cool air on his face.

"Watanuki, you..."

"I said, I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!" Watanuki yelled, and sprinted out into the melting snow.

There were many things that could be said about Doumeki Shizuka—he was talented, handsome, silent, obstinate, oddly sentimental, deeply annoying to certain people, intelligent, and powerful. The one thing you could not call him was _slow_. Especially where the aforementioned certain person was concerned. And if Doumeki could outrun gravity to catch Watanuki when he fell, he could certainly outrun Watanuki himself.

The shorter boy got about as far as the large, bare sakura tree by the temple gate before Doumeki caught him.

"Let go of me, you OBSESSIVE FREAK!" Watanuki shrieked when he felt a strong hand close firmly around his wrist, hauling him abruptly to a halt. "Are you DEAF? Or do you just ENJOY tormenting me?" He wrenched his arm around, attempting to shake Doumeki loose, but the archer would have none of it.

"Oi!" he said angrily, clapping a hand over Watanuki's mouth and pinning him hard against the trunk of the nearby tree. "Would you shut up for a minute?" Watanuki glared at him in silence. Doumeki cautiously removed his hand.

Watanuki looked at the ground. "Don't," he said quietly.

"Don't what?"

"Don't tell me how... _weird_ I am."

Doumeki's hand dropped to his side. "Why would I say that?"

"Don't try to make me feel better, either!" Watanuki snapped.

Doumeki sighed. He was terrible with words. Always had been. It seemed the only thing he was good at these days was annoying the one person he didn't want to annoy. He stared at the other boy, the tousled hair and flushed cheeks, smooth skin and defiant blue eyes, daring Doumeki to say it—to say he was repulsive, revolting. As if that would ever be true. And so in lieu of explaining himself, Doumeki simply placed one of his hands on either of Watanuki's slender forearms, pressed him against the tree, and kissed him gently.

Watanuki squeaked.

Doumeki heard him but didn't stop, just slid his hands up to either side of Watanuki's face to keep him from moving, threading fingers through his soft black hair. Watanuki shivered as the back of his head bumped against the frosty bark, uncertain of what to do or say beyond squeaking loudly again as Doumeki's tongue ghosted across his teeth. The archer's eyes were closed, his movements soft and careful in a way that would have thrilled Yuuko had she been there to see it. Watanuki cursed his shaky legs and wondered for the third time just where Doumeki had learned to do—_oh_—_that _with his tongue. It wasn't—_ah_—fair at all...

At long last Doumeki pulled back, drawing a stuttering breath of the cool winter air.

"Get it now?" he asked, almost deadpan through his heavy breathing and the faint blush on his cheeks. Watanuki blinked as though waking up from a dream. It seemed that his brain had relinquished muscular control over the majority of his body, which struck him as a slightly strange side effect of being kissed by one's arch rival. He gripped the trunk of the tree behind him for support.

"Not really," Watanuki said honestly, "But I think that's not something you should do again,"

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because I ... won't be able to get up if you do, I think," he stuttered weakly. Doumeki grinned.

"I could carry you," he suggested.

"That's what you ALWAYS say!" flailed Watanuki, as Doumeki threaded his under the other boy's shirt at the waist and pulled him closer. Watanuki yelped.

"AND YOUR HANDS ARE FREEZING, TOO!"

* * *

Across the street, the dimensional witch watched them with a wicked smile. Hitsuzen had done its work, with just a _little_ help from her. It was only a few white lies, and for a good purpose; the two young men pressed against the sakura tree were surely better off thanks to her scheming. She giggled. They just needed to be shown the way. 

Well, then. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small red leather book, tapping it lightly with her palm as the true title resolved upon the cover, the spell lifted from its pages. It had served its purpose well, as Yuuko expected from such a classic work. The gold lettering read "Much Ado About Nothing" and "William Shakespeare."

She thought it was rather appropriate.

* * *

**Owarimashita!  
**


End file.
